I place my soul on the examination table, offering you everything that I have. Slowly dissecting every damaged inch of my mind and body so that you might understand the workings of this fragile spirit. I would tear this beating heart out of my chest - slice it open so you might see each scar and jagged broken edge.

Did you know that they call me beautiful? That there are eyes that follow my every movement and those foolish enough to hang on each word that falls from these bruised lips. But they don't know what we know. They don't know how easy it is to forget this face.

I want to hold you down and make you explain this to me. The how and the why of this sudden absence. I want you to look into my eyes and notice this slow decay of spirit. I want you to hear the way my voice cracks when I mention your name. I want to understand how someone can become a stranger so completely in such a short amount of time.

They call me beautiful. But they don't know what I know. What you know. How easy it is to forget my face. My voice. How unworthy I must be if even you can leave my side without so much as a backwards glance...

Turn the music up, my love. Drown out the sound of this heart slowly breaking.